


The Transpicuous Looking Glass

by GolgotGumShoe



Series: And They Lived (Happily Together) AU [4]
Category: Far Cry 3
Genre: Fluff, Glasses, M/M, POV Second Person, Post-Canon, idk what this is its almost 3 lol, im back to writing after so fucking long folks whats up, nothing special i just wanted to press this headcnaon so hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 04:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17717822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GolgotGumShoe/pseuds/GolgotGumShoe
Summary: Ever since you were young, you had mostly been notorious for having gloriously bad vision. It was one of your few traits that made you stand out from the tribe, as different as you already stood anyway.





	The Transpicuous Looking Glass

**Author's Note:**

> lol i havent rewritten/edited this so apologies for anything error-related i am so ti r ed

Ever since you were young, you had mostly been notorious for having gloriously bad vision. It was one of your few traits that made you stand out from the tribe, as different as you already stood anyway.

  
"Vaas! Can you see it?" They said teasingly, when everyone would have gotten their attention to something much out there. You wouldn't have been able to notice until Citra would point it out gently for you, slapping you on the back when you laughed and finally understood.

  
Other times, though, they'd gotten frustrated, forcing your head or taunting you to the direction where at times it could actually help- but in time you had decided to adapt with what you lacked and relied on colors and movement instead. Sometimes you just didn't bother engaging unless you needed to.

  
You learned to be fast, and you memorized every little thing on the island every time you took a walk. From fallen tree to stone, cliff to rock formation- that's mostly why you could be faster than everyone. That's precisely why you knew where you were going, sprinting from the temple wishing you were lost, able to disappear where nobody could look.

  
If they even decided to, at least. (Of course they fucking wouldn't.)

  
Well- Hoyt did, one day.

  
He was a foreign face on the island, they all were, but he was the first who stretched out his hand and you squinted back at him for a few moments before finding that Hoyt, for the first time in a long time, was smiling. Smiling at you. That feeling of security and vulnerability fell onto you when you took Hoyt's hand, the same hand that patted your cheek and shoulder when you were being reassuring, giving you things like movies and shows and outside culture, candy and toys and all the things that you were outright distracting yourself with just to feel some semblance to happiness.

Well, it hadn't truly felt like happiness anymore when Hoyt had.. basically fucking left you, no?

  
Still, the few things that made you excited was a simple little thing:

  
Glasses.

  
He'd noticed it when your face was far too close to the screen for it to be good for your eyes, so he pulled you back by the shoulder and asked if your eyes were alright.

  
"Uh, they are, until you pulled me from my fucking Madagascar!" You protest, and it only made Hoyt laugh.

  
"Vaas, I just needed to know! Can you not see when you're on the couch?" He asked, squeezing your shoulder. You frown, shaking your head.

  
"Ah, well, I'll see to it about that. Carry on!" And then he got up and went away for a bit. The following day, he's kidnapped a man with a white lab coat and a bunch of equipment that looked like the old film shit except you put your eyes through them, and later they started talking about something about unnaturally high grades and what it must have been like having that much trouble seeing back then.

  
You care to disagree; you've been doing fine so long as you're not with the Rakyat again to taunt you about it.

  
And it got better, very better, because after a long while that day, by sunset, Hoyt gave you the precious pair of glasses that sparked a lot more excitement to you than you could show. He tied a little rope thing to hold it on your head properly in case it fell off, and he sent you on your way where you decided that using rocket launchers and setting up mines and the like to far places were the best things to celebrate finally being able to see for the longest time.

  
Well, it always was.

  
Things were clear- sharp and beautiful, for once finally making sense from afar from the little details of birds flying or even the butterflies in the fields, the vines he realized were actually good for climbing or even the bigger things like the WWII canons that were still somehow in tact in spite it being decades since its last usage, and it was so fucking exciting- so new.

  
Littler things like watching Hoyt fiddle with something in his hand or being able to sit on the bed or the couch while watching TV were of the sort too, sometimes being able to see your pirates and the way their eyes crinkled or their eyebrows furrowed, something you never got to see were what perplexed you and made you fixate at them once, but those glasses were just an early point before you decided after a few years that it was time for a change.

  
At first, the contacts were hard to apply, sometimes in the morning you decided it was better for the damn glasses until you remembered you blew a hole into it with your gun when you found that you didn't have a need for them anymore, though since then feeling an extra layer of gelatin over your retinas were something you hadn't gotten used to. At least when the first week was over for sure, but afterwards the only pain was for it to accidentally pop out or occasionally get your eyes sticking involuntarily after having an accidental nap.

  
So, that's how you live life now: With a pair of eye contacts that always need to be cleaned everyday now and the pair of ruined glasses in case your eye contacts failed to cooperate with you.

You said that when you were dying, you were gonna keep your eyes open because your lids would have fucking stuck to them forever.

And yet-- 

 

"Everything alright?" Jason pipes up when he pops up into the bathroom. You've been staring at the mirror with your glasses and his eyes widen in surprise- then delight, as he notices them immediately when you turn to him.

  
"Oh shit," Jason laughs, amused. "That's so cute."

  
"'Cute'? The fuck?" You reply, squinting back at the tall fucker.

  
"I mean, yeah. But also- how'd you never tell me about those? ... Is that a hole?"

  
"I know, I made it, Jason!" You say, taking it off to let him see better.

  
"I didn't think you'd want to, ya know, wear 'em. Real or fake?"

  
"Real, Jason! Old as fuuuuuck, but if my contacts are being little shits I'll wear it." You shrug, fingers playing with the string around it.

  
"You wear contacts?" He asks dumbly.

 

You squint back at him, "The fuck do you think I do with my eyes before we sleep, uh?"

   
He chuckles, "Sorry, sorry, I always sorta assumed that you had something in your eyes or something. It makes a lot of sense now." 

  
You snort, before putting them back on. You have to keep an eye closed for the broken lens on the side as you look back at the mirror, not really looking at yourself but at Jason and the way he's staring back at you, definitely at the way you look with the glasses.

  
"You should wear those more. Like, if you're even planning to get them fixed or some shit, you know?" He says, then pauses. "Will you?"

  
"Maaaaaybe." You shrug, grinning lightly. "Don't know yet, maybe if something's gonna happen to my contacts. Hope they fucking don't."

  
(Jason looks ready to slap the contacts into the trash can. You're ready to smack him upside the head if he plans to.)

  
"You're adorable in the glasses, Vaas!" Jason points out, reaching to hug you from behind. "I'm kinda just not used to seeing you in them." He comments as his chin rests on your shoulder.

  
"Yeah? Well, wanna kiss 'em goodbye 'cause I'm putting these the fuck down now?"

  
"Keep them on," Jason orders.

  
"Fucking make me, motherfucker." You scoff lightly.

  
Jason squeezes around your waist, leaning back enough to pull you up and squeeze you even more tightly.

  
"Just for a bit!" Jason whines, even as much as he's struggling to keep you up when you both know you're heavier than him. You laugh, patting him on his hand to finally put you down, and Jason is sulking- yes, seriously fucking sulking as he does.

  
"I meant I'm keeping the fucking glasses on, hermano!" You raise your voice, smacking him on his shoulder, feigning irritation as Jason starts grinning in entertainment and cups your face with a hand.

  
"You're keeping them, right? Like, you're not doing this before throwing them away or something?" He asks.

  
"Nooo, I like them. But you, Jason, can fucking see with your own two working eyes that I got a hole in this shit. Maybe I'll kidnap some eye doctor later and get 'em fixed."

  
"Oh yeah." He grins.

  
"The fuck are you thinking, huh?" You say, hands resting on his shoulders.

  
"Just thinking how good you'd look all spent and sweaty in bed with them on. Fucked out, you know? Now, _that’s_ adorable." He remarks, thumb brushing lightly over your lips.

  
"Jason Brody, is that a plan?" The hands on his shoulders are oh, so suddenly on his collar.

  
(You consider getting to that eye doctor much sooner.) 


End file.
